


A Sort of Intimacy

by artenon



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-17
Updated: 2011-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artenon/pseuds/artenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was achingly wonderful, those scant few minutes that Damian collected and cherished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sort of Intimacy

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday gift for Chippy! ♥
> 
> I always feel like I have to tread carefully when writing Dick/Damian. Although I think this is my first time posting a Dd fic.
> 
> Anyway, Damian is sixteen in this fic, if that concerns anyone. There's no actual porn, but implicit sex and references to sex can be found in this fic. All over this fic, really.

i.

The engine of the Batmobile was still settling to a halt when Damian practically hurled himself on top of Dick and began kissing him insistently.

Dick complied, as always, but after a minute, he leaned away, saying, “Damian, wait – we’re filthy.”

“Hmm,” Damian hummed, grinding his hips against Dick and causing the other’s breath to hitch.

“No – I mean – we just got back from _patrol_ ; I need to _shower_ ,” he clarified.

“You can,” Damian said, “ _after_.”

“Robin,” Dick growled, voice pitching lower in disapproval.

Damian smirked. “ _Batman_ ,” he all but purred, and Dick’s groan was a mixture of defeat and arousal.

Later, Dick would pull Damian close and kiss him softly on the lips before nuzzling his head in the crook of his neck, arms heavy and crushing Damian’s body to his, and Damian would allow himself a faint smile.

Their position was awkward, a result of the limited space in the Batmobile, but it was enough, and Damian’s eyes fluttered shut as he savored the moment.

It didn’t last nearly long enough. After a few minutes, Dick said, voice muffled, “Okay, now I _really_ need to shower.”

the moment over, Damian rolled his eyes and pushed himself away, scrambling out of the Batmobile and drawing his cape around his naked body.

“Come on,” Dick said, making to ruffle Damian’s hair, but Damian ducked away before he could make contact.

“You need to get cleaned up, too,” he pressed, hand retreating to rest on his hip.

But Damian had gotten what he’d wanted, as tiny and insignificant as it seemed, and he had little patience or tolerance for Grayson’s foolishness left. He certainly wasn’t about to suffer the _tease_ that would be showering together, their bodies brushing against each other, teasing him with Dick’s touch that just wasn’t the _same_ as the gentle embrace that they always shared after they’d had sex –

Mostly he didn’t want to have to put up with Dick’s obnoxious singing. Of course. That was it.

No one should have to suffer through Dick’s awful renditions of _The Beatles_ songs while they showered. Or just in general, actually.

And so Damian simply snorted derisively and stomped out of the Batcave, veering away from the master bedroom and heading for a different bathroom.

 

ii.

It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the sex. Because he did. The sex was undoubtedly enjoyable, but it was also undoubtedly _not_ the reason Damian wanted it.

Maybe it had started that way. After all, Damian was sixteen, and Dick was attractive and also one of the few people Damian could stand. It worked out.

Dick hadn’t been as enthusiastic at first – _But Damian, you’re so young!_ his mentor had protested, but he couldn’t deny that Damian was no longer the ten-year-old child who had shown up at their doorstep all those years ago, and after Damian had convinced him that this was entirely consensual (as if Dick could ever coerce him into doing something like this against his will), everything was great.

That was to say, everything _was_ great, until after the actual sex (and that had been kind of awkward but also exhilarating and oh-so wonderful) was done and Dick had proceeded to sling an arm around him and _cuddle_.

Damian had tensed, unsure of how to react. Unsure of how he should feel about this completely _different_ level of intimacy.

Grayson, the bastard, fell asleep, and Damian was left to contemplate the arm pinning him to the bed.

Which eventually resulted in Dick mumbling something in his sleep and shifting even closer, snuggling up against him.

Damian, extremely uncomfortable with this turn of events, slid out of the bed, pausing only to cover Dick with the blanket before retreating back to his own bedroom.

But when he settled under his covers, he felt bereft. There was a phantom weight on his chest where Dick’s arm had been lying moments before. It was cold.

Pride and uncertainty both kept Damian from returning to Dick’s room that night, but less than a week later he led the way there when they retired for the night, and pulled Dick onto the bed beside him.

The sex was just as good as the first time, maybe even better, and then Dick held him again, humming contentedly in the back of his throat.

It was still strange, still uncomfortable, and made Damian feel oddly vulnerable, but there was another feeling, too, and he liked it. He wanted to feel it again.

So maybe the first few times, it was for the sex, but as time went on, Damian became acutely aware that that was not the case at all. As silly as it sounded, even to his own ears, _sex_ was not the reason Damian wanted sex.

It was the warm glow of pleasure, the comfort, the – the indescribable feeling that Damian felt afterward, that he struggled still to find a word for, and all the feelings encompassed in the way Dick held him after they had finished.

It was achingly _wonderful_ , those scant few minutes that Damian collected and cherished.

It became something of an addiction. He _craved_ it.

Grayson had ruined him.

Sometimes, he didn’t even want to stop and enjoy the sex. Sometimes, he just wanted it over with so Dick would hold him already.

 _Fuck me, harder, faster, Grayson, harder, faster_ , he’d say, and Dick would.

Once, in his impatience, he went too fast, pushed too hard, but Dick slowed them down, gently, easily, and Damian felt a glimmer of – _that_ , just for a moment.

When they were done, and Dick held him, just as Damian knew he would, Damian relaxed his muscles and pretended to fall asleep.

He was still consciously aware of everything when Dick pulled him closer and brushed his lips against his neck, sending a tingle racing down his spine.

He was aware when Dick sighed, and he registered with confusion that this sigh was not the contented one he was so used to hearing by now – this sigh was tired and laced with melancholy.

He was aware of the way Dick’s arms tightened around him, ever so slightly.

And he was also very much conscious of how he _un_ consciously seemed to be shifting closer to Dick when he did.

 

iii.

That night, they had gotten tangled up with the League of Assassins while tracking their suspect.

Damian even recognized some of their faces, and he didn’t want to admit it, but it kind of hurt how they didn’t show the slightest trace of hesitance or regret when they turned on him and Dick.

But why should they? He was an official enemy of the House of al Ghul now, after all. He had been for six years.

They probably never liked him even when he was a member of the League, anyway.

And it shouldn’t have bothered him, because this wasn’t the first time they’d run into the League since he’d left, and he had never really thought about it before, but for whatever reason, the thought struck him tonight, and that was all that really mattered, because now he couldn’t forget it.

Especially after one of them made a snide remark referencing the _new_ ‘Damian’ that Talia had fostered.

He’d be five or six now. Thinking about him, this _new and improved_ ‘him,’ tailored precisely to suit Talia’s needs as the perfect soldier, as the perfect _son_ , made Damian feel sick.

Contemplating this during the painfully silent ride back home, Damian concluded that what he needed was to be comforted. To be held. To be _loved_ , because, yes, Damian realized, that was what he felt with Dick. Love, which he had never felt for anyone else before, far beyond the admiration or respect he felt for anyone else he cared about.

He felt it when he lay there, basking in the afterglow of their sex, basking in the absolute feeling of _love_ that Dick radiated.

He wanted it. He needed it. He craved it in a way that scared even him as he realized how _dependent_ he had become on the knowledge that Grayson would hold him after they’d fucked (because surely their coarse sex couldn’t be classified as anything besides fucking).

It was all very messed up, but he needed it, a lot more than he thought he would ever need anything.

And tonight, he needed it more than he thought possible.

He was bursting with impatience by the time they arrived home, but before he could make a move, Dick announced that he needed a shower and Damian decided to let him, because Dick might hold him longer afterward if there was no pressing need to clean himself.

So Damian showered quickly and went to wait in the master bedroom, smiling as he listened to Dick singing _Let It Be_ and scowling when he caught himself.

Dick exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, still humming. He stopped short when he saw Damian sitting shirtless on his bed. “Dami?”

“Grayson,” Damian said, standing up.

And Dick sighed, looking weary. “Are you sure you want to tonight, Damian?”

 _Yes_ , Damian was sure; he had never wanted it more than this night.

“I’m sure,” he said. Then, because he didn’t know how else to say it, he added, “Come here and fuck me, Grayson.”

 Dick came to the bed, but he just sat down on the edge and said, “Not tonight, okay?”

Damian moved in front of Dick and leaned down so that their eyes were level. “ _Tonight_ , Grayson.”

“Damian,” Dick said, and there was a warning in his voice now.

Damian ignored it, leaning forward. He was stopped, their faces centimeters apart, by Dick’s hands on his shoulders, holding him back.

“I think you should go to bed,” he said, in the same warning tone.

Damian strained forward. They were _so close_. “Grayson –”

“No,” Dick said firmly, pushing him back with such force that Damian stumbled to regain his footing. “Damian, we need to talk.”

Damian’s chest constricted. Dick couldn’t end this. This – whatever it was, not when Damian needed so desperately to be loved. Not when he’d just realized that he was _in_ love. Lost, he looked in Dick’s eyes and was surprised to find the pain he was feeling reflected there.

Hesitantly he sat down beside Dick.

For a minute, neither of them said anything, sitting awkwardly beside each other.

Damn it, why couldn’t this have come up later?

“We can talk later –” Damian tried, but that was apparently the wrong thing to say.

Dick turned on him, eyes flashing. “No! I think you’ve gotten the wrong idea about me, Damian!”

Damian was startled into silence.

“I don’t know if you think I’m _easy_ ,or _accessible_ ,or whatever, but I’m not, okay? And these past months – I think they’ve been a mistake.”

 _No_ , Damian wanted to say, _they can’t have been a mistake; I’m happier than I’ve ever been._ But he didn’t say anything. He just stared at Dick, mouth dry, heart pounding.

“I wanted to give you time,” Dick said, and now he just sounded sad. “I know you have trouble – expressing yourself. But I think I’ve waited long enough, Damian. It’s clear you’re just –” He broke off and drew in a breath. “– just fucking around because you think I’m an easy lay. And if you don’t want to go any farther than _this_ ,” he gestured vaguely between them, “then I can’t let it drag out any longer. I’m sorry.”

“Wait,” Damian choked out. “I _do_ want –”

“Don’t kid yourself, Damian,” Dick said, and Damian wanted to slap him or something – slap himself, maybe, because Grayson looked so fucking _miserable_ , and forget what _Damian_ was feeling right now, was Dick’s crestfallen expression right now _his_ fault?

“You insult me all the time and make it pretty apparent that you’re just putting up with me because you have to. Sometimes I think – no… No. You never want to hang out or do anything else. It’s always just _fuck me, Grayson_. Really,” he said, laughing brokenly, “sometimes I feel like I only see you on patrol or in bed.”

Damian closed his eyes. Why was he such an _idiot_?

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“What? Wait, no!” Dick exclaimed. “Don’t apologize! I just – I care about you. A lot. I mean… I love you, okay? And I just don’t want to fool myself anymore. I’m tired of it. _I’m_ sorry.”

Damian stared at him. Dick had every reason to hate Damian right now, _had_ been angry just a minute ago, and yet now _he_ was apologizing? _Why?_

“You love me?” he echoed faintly, because that was the main thing his mind was stuck on.

“Yes. But it’s obvious you don’t feel the same way, so –”

“I never said that.”

“You,” started Dick, surprised, “but –”

“I –” Damian hesitated. He loved Dick. Why couldn’t he say it?

It was too soon after the realization of the fact. He hadn’t quite come to terms with it yet. He didn’t know if he wanted to trust Dick with the knowledge. It was too intimate, would leave him too vulnerable, even if he knew now that his feelings were reciprocated.

He couldn’t say it yet.

They were silent.

“Will you lay here with me for awhile?” Dick asked eventually, staring at the ceiling and very obviously not looking at Damian.

“Yes,” he said, and let Dick guide him to the middle of the bed, under the thick blanket.

It was strange, but not in a bad way. Dick was naked and Damian was shirtless, but neither of them was sticky with come or flushed from sex. But it was still comfortable and familiar, and when Dick tentatively drew an arm over Damian, Damian moved in close, pressing burying his face in Dick’s chest.

“Can we stay like this?” he whispered, not sure why he was seeking permission but feeling that he should.

“Tonight,” Dick said quietly, and Damian’s stomach clenched at the implication.

“I –” he started, but he still couldn’t say it. “This is the reason I wanted sex,” he said instead, because he had to say something, or else everything would be over. “Not because you’re an… ‘easy lay.’ Just this. Right here.”

There was a long moment in which Dick did not respond. Then, “What? _Cuddling_?”

He sounded amused, so different from how he was earlier, and Damian felt his heart warm. Then he registered what Dick had said.

“No. Yes. Maybe. Shut up, Grayson.”

Dick laughed, light and airy, and he said, “You know, we don’t _have_ to have sex if you don’t want to. If you wanted to just – lay here, like this, you could have just asked.”

“I didn’t know how to,” Damian admitted, burying his face into Dick’s chest. “I thought it’d be easier just to… have sex.”

“Damian,” Dick said, and his voice was all exasperated fondness.

They were silent.

“Do you love me?” Dick asked after a moment.

Damian tensed, ever so slightly. “I don’t know,” he lied. “Maybe.”

That must have been enough for Dick, or he maybe he could tell that Damian was lying through his teeth, because he smiled and said, “Okay,” and fell asleep soon after.

And Damian knew he would tell Dick eventually, so it was enough for him, too.

The next day, Dick showed Damian the difference between fucking and making love, and _then_ Damian was happier than he’d ever been.

 


End file.
